Apocryphal
by Onyx.Fringe
Summary: Castiel is lost, in more ways than one. His faith, loyalties, and strength are challenged as he endures the war of hell and the hell of war. Meanwhile, a moment of weakness on his part may put Dean, Sam, and all of humanity at risk. *better summery inside
1. Chapter 1

*disclaimers, the cool thing to do: I own nothing. So yeah…I guess that's it. Also, this is a work of fiction, something I'm doing to unwind. I have no beta or anything like that. There shouldn't be any terribly egregious grammatical errors or anything, but if there are, just let it slide. I'm just in it to have fun. 

SUMMERY: Castiel is lost, in more ways than one. His faith, loyalties, and strength are challenged as he endures the war of hell and the hell of war. Meanwhile, a moment of weakness on his part may put Dean, Sam, and all of humanity at risk. And ultimately everyone on this journey must ask themselves who wrote the story of this world and war?

* * *

**Apocryphal**

**_Chapter One_**

One more hit. To the head, to the stomach…it didn't matter. Just one more hit and he wouldn't be able to take it anymore. He'd tell everything; where the Winchesters were, the game plan of the angel soldiers, what they had in store of Dean… Everything he'd fought for would crumble.

_Where are you now?_ He thought through a haze. _Uriel? Gabriel? …Lord?_

These were silly thoughts, he knew. There was a war going on; no one had time to come down here and rescue him. He was good at what he did, yes, but he was by no means vital to fight against the apocalypse. Besides, not one army could spare a soldier and certainly no human would be trying to find this vessel. No, he was alone. For the first time in his life, he realized, he was completely alone. Even God would not enter these caverns…not even if it _could_ be done.

Castiel felt the Things moving in a circle around him. They laughed at him, taunting his inability to fight back. He didn't know what They were. When They'd first dragged him down here…to the Pit, as Dean had so bitterly called it…

The young angel (for he was young by eternity's standards) quivered on the ground. What _had _happened? He squinted his one good eye, trying to remember. He'd…and They'd…no… Whatever had happened it was gone. He knew only that They wanted to know everything he knew. He _remembered_ the pain, pain he never should have been able to feel for although he was _in _a human body he was not _of _a human body. And angels don't feel pain…at least not the way humans do.

Pain in humans, Castiel was quickly realizing, was an overwhelming thing. It dulled all thoughts, memories, and resolve. Eventually he knew it would break him. Then he would tell Them everything…and everything would be lost. He felt his eyes, or at least his good eye, grow moist. _Crying? _He thought? _Am I crying? _No sooner had that thought crossed his mind when a flood of tears began to stream down his face. He was alone…he was losing the last battle of his life. He would die alone…he would die a traitor.

"I know where Dean is!" He shrieked. Around him, They danced in a circle and began to make a merry chittering noise.

"You know?"

"We know you know"

"That's why you're here!"

"Tell us!"

"Tell us!"

_"Tell us! _ And we'll kill you quick."

How many of them were there? Three? Three hundred? Castiel didn't know nor did he dare raise his head to look. He uttered a small sob and drew his hands up the back of his head, pressing his forehead against the ground. He wouldn't even be allowed to die in his own body...

One of the things stomped hard on Castiel's bare back with a clawed heel. The angel let out a cry of anguish; the Thing's foot carried with it the burn of a hundred fires, a hundred stab wounds and the crushing force of a two-ton weight.

Castiel knew he should be dead. This human form wasn't meant to take such abuse and down here he was only as strong as the vessel he was in. Yet they were keeping him alive, waiting for him to bend to their will. How long had it been? It felt like eons. He knew they could keep him alive as long as they wanted…forever…an eternity of this pain.

Castiel pulled himself into a slumped sitting position and prepared to look at Them. With his one good eye (the other had long since been destroyed beyond all use at Their hands) he studied these strange creatures. They were…They were shadows with grinning faces dancing on the wall. Empty eyes…emptier smiles…black light. So many of them…so many….

"I'll tell you…" Castiel whispered, slumping back down to the floor. Maybe he could lie…maybe they'd believe him and end the pain.

Before he could open his mouth to say another word, one of the shadows detached itself from the wall. In a fraction of a second it had manifested into the physical realm. It was horrible…Castiel closed his good eye and lost the image in a fog of pain. In an ironic twist of life, it was the agony he so desperately sought to escape that saved his sanity.

"If you lie," A voice lectured in a singsong voice. "You'll regret it."

As the thing spoke Castiel felt his skin ignite. He screamed, rolling futilely on the rocky surface of the floor. He felt his very bones sizzle and the smell of burnt flesh overwhelmed his senses. Then, suddenly, it stopped. Castiel didn't need to look; his skin would not be charred…yet. This had been a preview.

His exhausted mind finally snapped. He no longer felt bound by honor, loyalty, or faith.

_Alone_

_Abandoned_

_Alone_

_Abandoned_

_Alone_

The words rolled themselves around inside his head, circling with the same tormenting glee that They had done only minutes (hours?) before.

"Riverbend, Wisconsin!" Castiel screamed. "The Winchesters are in Riverbend, Wisconsin!"

The laughing, manic and evil, began again as the shadows returned to their cryptic shadow dance.

Then the wall on which they twisted with their delight exploded…and everything stopped.


	2. Chapter 2

*disclaimers, the cool thing to do: I own nothing. So yeah…I guess that's it. Also, this is a work of fiction, something I'm doing to unwind. I have no beta or anything like that. There shouldn't be any terribly egregious grammatical errors or anything, but if there are, just let it slide. I'm just in it to have fun. Read and review, but no angry flames please. :) Thank ye kindly.

SUMMERY: Castiel is lost, in more ways than one. His faith, loyalties, and strength are challenged as he endures the war of hell and the hell of war. Meanwhile, a moment of weakness on his part may put Dean, Sam, and all of humanity at risk. And ultimately everyone on this journey must ask themselves who wrote the story of this world and war? *rated for violence and some language; rating may change later so check under the 'M' ratings if the story suddenly vanishes.

* * *

**Apocryphal**

_**Chapter Two**_

"Gone? What do you mean gone?"

"Gone. As in not here anymore."

Dean Winchester smirked. _Touché _he thought as he stared at Uriel. The angel stood, his head high with his typical and very annoying pride. His brown eyes looked at Dean as though he were watching an impaired dog chase his tail.

"Well, thank you. You have once again proven your superiority over us lowly humans by loosely defining the word gone. While you're at it, can you run what 'here' means by me? I'd like to have something to compare 'gone' to. You know, just so I can fully grasp the concept in all its glory." Dean turned away from Uriel and rolled his eyes at Sam, who was standing by the door with an expression of fearful surprise.

"How does an angel just disappear? Don't you guys have some way of like tracking each other or something?" Sam asked intensely. His concern, clearly greater than Dean's at the moment, reverberated in his tone.

"The Lord doesn't microchip his soldiers," Uriel snapped. Though Dean wasn't facing him he knew that that angel's eyes were fixed on the back of his head. He felt the stare as though it were burning through the back of his skull. Whirling around to again face Uriel he extended his hands and smiled sardonically.

"Someone's been watching Animal Planet," He exclaimed. "You angels stealing cable from the mud monkeys? You gotta admit, no one televises a dog show like us. I'm especially proud of the way we handle the pugs. Short and bug eyed, yet we still make them look damn good on camera."

"Dean!" Sam moaned. "This is serious."

"Oh c'mon," Dean snorted. Exasperation was creeping into his voice. Here they were, on a serious hunt in a shitty, cold town when the Angel of Attitude shows up at their hotel room. "Sam, they're _angels _remember? All powerful, time bending, white fluffy winged warriors-"

"Do I look like I have a pair of fluffy wings?" Uriel snapped, his eyes narrowing with anger.

"I'm saying what kind of trouble could he be in where he couldn't help himself?"

Dean walked over to the mini-fridge and pulled it open. The leftovers from his and Sam's late night dinner were starting to stink. This was probably due to the fact that said late night dinner had taken place six days ago. For a moment, Dean considered taking the cartons of spoiled food from the fridge and tossing them in the garbage. After careful consideration, he shook his head; no way he was touching that crap. Sammy could play housekeeper later. Instead, Dean grabbed a bear and popped the tab. He took a long swig and turned back to Uriel who was staring off at the ceiling as though having some private conversation with one of the many brown stains that had taken up residence on the cheap plaster.

"You hear what I'm saying, Sam?" Dean asked, more to break the silence than to continue the conversation. He have been just fine if he'd turned around and Uriel had pulled the disappearing rabbit trick that angel's seemed to fond of.

"We are not…invincible," Uriel said. His voice had calmed but was filled with a strange emotion. Humility? Nah, Dean thought. An angel wouldn't know humility if it bit him on the ass.

"But you are strong," Sam pointed out, his voice bordering on desperation. "You can-"

"He knows where you are," Uriel interrupted, arrogance returning to his voice. His eyes flicked from Dean to Sam then back to Dean again. "He knows the Plan…battles we intend to fight and how we know we can win them. He knows our strategies, your strategies, the locations of all the hunters…he knows how we all plan to win this war."

"Smart boy that Castiel," Dean said wryly. Though he was playing dumb, he realized where this was going. If Castiel had fallen into enemy hands…well, Dean knew more than anyone that they had ways of getting information out of someone.

"So…what happened?" Dean snapped after another silence had persisted for almost a full minute.

"We were in battle," Uriel said, shaking his head. "It was happening in Kansas…I believe you know the town."

_Lawrence?_ Dean and Sam thought at the same time.

"Woah there, buddy," Dean said, pointing a finger at Uriel. "If there was something going on In Lawrence we would have heard."

"It wasn't in the paper…no one knew but us. There was another seal about to be broken."

"What seal?" Sam asked.

"Unimportant. It wasn't broken. But we lost 4 brothers, including Castiel."

"Lost?" Dean asked. He anticipated what Uriel would say as soon as the angel opened his mouth. "No, I know what lost means hot shot. How was he lost?"

"That's of no concern to you. He was lost. Taken, rather. By Lilith."

The pause that followed was yet longer than the two before. This time even Dean was so lost in thought that he didn't care about the uncomfortable quiet. Why was Uriel being so evasive?

"How long ago?" Sam asked finally.

"Three of your weeks," Uriel replied darkly. He turned to face the window. "It may already be too late."

"He could still be alive!" Sam protested. "I mean Dean…"

Sam trailed off, looking at his brother fearfully. It was a dangerous thing to do, mentioning what he'd been through. Sometimes he reacted with humor, other times with sadness, and still others with anger. He seemed unaffected, however, and nodded at Sam to continue.

"Dean was down there for four months. And he was still alive…at least alive enough to be pulled out."

"Of course Castiel is still alive," Uriel said slowly, as though explaining something to a small child. "But he might have already begun talking about things that could cost us the war."

"Let me get this straight," Dean snapped. "You don't care about your fellow angel so much as you care about what he's been saying?"

"Warriors fall in battle, Dean. You should know that more than anyone. If Castiel had died…we would have mourned, yes. And then moved on. But he didn't die. They kept him alive, alive so they could use him against us. That's a problem."

"Never mind that he's in hell," Sam muttered, sitting on the edge of his bed. He shook his head and Dean could imagine was he was feeling; angry, sad, and appalled.

"Why did you wait so long to find us?" Dean asked. He waiting for Uriel to turn back and face him but the angel didn't.

"It isn't your help I seek," Uriel replied with an amused chuckle. "There's nothing that a mud monkey as yourself could possibly offer. I came on orders that I was to warn you. If Castiel has betrayed us-"

"Don't call it that," Dean snapped. "You have NO idea." He briefly flashed back to his own experience. After a week in the pit, Satan himself could have asked Dean how best to kill his own brother and Dean would have told him. The young man shuddered and took another drink from his beer.

"They will come for you and they will kill you," Uriel continued curtly. "Work on the assumption that they know and disappear. If we can salvage this war then you'll be needed. So leave. Go wherever you like but don't stay long. Keep moving until you hear otherwise."

"What about Castiel?" Sam whispered. Uriel was gone before he was even able to finish the sentence.

Dean blinked, studying the empty space where Uriel had stood. His head was starting to ache and his stomach felt queasy. He didn't know if it was from fear or pity for Castiel. Maybe both.

"What do we do?" Sam asked. He had walked up to Dean and his voice, suddenly so close, made Dean jump a little. Sam must have noticed because from the corner of his eye, Dean saw him back up.

"We stay," Dean answered, clearing his throat. "We finish this job. Then we leave. I'll call Bobby. Let him know to spread the word to other hunters…minus all the angel stuff." Though Castiel had never requested Dean keep the angels' presence on earth a secret the hunter felt it was probably best to keep as much as possible under wraps for now.

"What about Castiel?" Sam asked. "Is there anything we can…I mean, we sort of owe him don't we?"

"For what? His vague answers to our questions? His annoying ability to appear only after we're out of danger?" Dean muttered. His headache was getting worse and now he felt like he might vomit at any second. When he met Sam's eyes he knew he was seeing the same emotions that his younger brother saw in his own gaze.

Dean would be damned before he'd admit it but he was sad for Castiel. Sad to lose him and sad he couldn't help him...sad because the angel, for whatever his faults, had saved Dean and by doing so had saved Sam. That, especially the latter part, made Dean feel indebted to Castiel. And really, he wasn't so annoying. Earthly challenged, sure but…

Sam smiled sadly at his big brother.

"So…I wonder what will come up when we google 'saving angels from hell'," He said softly.

"My money is on a really screwed up porno site," Dean quipped, brightening instantly.

Sam grabbed his laptop turned it on. It didn't need to be said that both brothers were aware this would be a losing battle. Sam had spent months trying to bust Dean out of the pit only to meet with dead end after dead end. Nevertheless they knew they had to try, if only to attempt to pay of their debt.

"You realize we could go to hell for this, right?" Dean winked at Sam and nudged him with his elbow.

"What?" Sam looked at him blankly, clearly not getting the joke.

"You know? Pulling someone out of hell? I imagine you'd have to go to hell to do it…never mind, Sammy. Start typing. I'll call Bobby. At least he has a sense of humor."

"Since when?" Sam smirked.

"Atta boy," Dean chuckled. He picked up the phone and began dialing, a heavy weight suddenly falling on his shoulders.


	3. Chapter 3

*disclaimers, the cool thing to do: I own nothing. So yeah…I guess that's it. Also, this is a work of fiction, something I'm doing to unwind. I have no beta or anything like that. There shouldn't be any terribly egregious grammatical errors or anything, but if there are, just let it slide. I'm just in it to have fun. :) Oh, and this chapter? I'm aware that it's not my best, thanks. ;)

SUMMERY: Castiel is lost, in more ways than one. His faith, loyalties, and strength are challenged as he endures the war of hell and the hell of war. Meanwhile, a moment of weakness on his part may put Dean, Sam, and all of humanity at risk. And ultimately everyone on this journey must ask themselves who wrote the story of this world and war?

* buyer beware, this is an intense chapter.

**Apocryphal**

_Chapter Three_

Dean Winchester was dreaming and in his dream he was walking down a long tunnel of jagged rock. It was barely tall enough for him to stand and the air was thick and damp, making it difficult to breath.

"Hello?" He yelled. "Sam! Bobby!"

This was unnerving him, he realized. He could feel the stone, smell the sulfur in the air…this was no dream.

No, he thought. Don't be stupid, Dean. You had three weeks of no nightmares and you knew that wouldn't last forever. You're due-this is a dream. You'll wake up soon. Sam will hear you and wake you up…everything will be fine.

Dean continued down the tunnel, almost against his own will. The area seemed to grow smaller and he had to hunch over slightly to allow himself passage. The walls were becoming hot to the touch and Dean tried to keep his skin away from them as rocks began to glow like embers. His heart began to pound faster; the heat was burning through his shoes and the sulfur smell in the air seemed more prominent.

Oh god, he thought, I'm back in hell. They finally did it; they finally threw me back into the pit!

He could feel his pulse hammering away in his neck. Dean walked faster, frantically trying to get out of the claustrophobic tunnel. The terrifying thought hit him that if he were back in hell maybe this tunnel would go on and on. An eternity would pass and Dean would still be looking for the exit, crying out for help that wouldn't come. His breathing became ragged and in his panic he tripped, gashing one of his knees against a jagged rock that jutted out from the ground.

"Sammy!" He wailed. "Bobby! Anyone?" He lowered his head, a tear rolling down his cheek. What had he done to deserve this?

The hunter didn't know how long he sat in silence, feeling the heat radiating against him and wishing he were dead. It could have been minutes, hours, even years. At any rate, he was brought back to reality by the sound of a distant cry that sounded plaintive and weak. Dean felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead and sank back against the wall of the tunnel. It burned him and he jumped, hissing out a few curses before standing up with renewed confidence. He had to get out of here and to do that he had to calm down.

"OK, Dean," he muttered. "Get it together."

As he stood there, he realized that the stones all around him were cooling and the tunnel itself seemed larger. The air, too, seemed less heavy and Dean was able to take a deep breath that calmed his heartbeat. Gathering his courage, the young hunter began to make his way down the tunnel. Upon turning a corner, Dean was welcomed with the site of an exit. He grinned and uttered a prayer of thanks, though he wasn't quite sure who he was addressing it to.

Dean picked his way over the rocks and towards the exit with caution. He shielded himself against a large boulder and made a move to peer through the exit in such a way that he wouldn't be seen by whatever awaited outside.

"No!!"

The yell startled Dean and he jumped, curling into an area where the boulder was kiddie-cornered against the wall, obscuring him from anything that might happen to look in the tunnel.

"Just tell me where they are. Lilith commands it and let me tell you, angel boy, if you thought those low level dumbass demons who brought you down here were bad, wait until I start to play with you."

"I won't…"

Castiel, Dean thought with a wince. He gathered up his courage and peeked out of the tunnel. What he saw would stay with him forever.

Castiel was splayed out on a table, tied down with what looked like wire. It was looped around his neck, wrists, and ankles and Dean could see even from a distance that it was digging into his skin, drawing blood from his pale skin. One of his eyes was gone, leaving a bloody hole in its wake and the skin on the right side of his face appeared horribly burned. His left leg was broken, bone jutting into the air in a bloody mess. His chest was riddled with ugly cuts that looked deep and painful. The unscathed side of his face was covered with dirt save for tracks that had been cleaned by his tears. That angel who had once seemed to be so strong and righteous to Dean had been reduced to a mangled mass, broken and sobbing.

The creature responsible for the brutality was circling the table, a bloody knife in its hands. It was appearing in a human form and its lips formed a sadistic grin. Dean knew that it was hoping the angel would hold out so it could continue its fun for as long as possible. Suddenly its gaze switched to Dean's direction. The hunter froze, unable to move back into hiding. He expected to be rushed and taken captive, perhaps tied down next to Castiel and subjected to his own torture. But…nothing happened. The demon returned its attention to Castiel, plunging the knife into his side and twisting. Castiel squealed and arched his back, causing the wire to cut deeper into his neck.

He can't see me, Dean realized. Even though his head told him not to tempt fate, he stood and ventured cautiously out of the tunnel.

"Castiel," He whispered, approaching the angel quickly. Castiel gave no acknowledgement of him and Dean suddenly became sadly aware that while he was safely cloaked from the demon he was also unseen by Castiel.

"Lilith is growing impatient," The demon sad with a sigh. "But that's OK. She told me I could have as much time as I need. If nothing else, she'll know you are suffering. We can win this war without your intel, anyway."

"Castiel," Dean sighed. Though he knew the angel couldn't hear him, he felt he needed to speak to him anyway. He awkwardly placed a hand on Castiel's bloody forehead, stroking the angel's hair. He had never been good at trying to comfort people, usually restoring to bad jokes and beer to ease someone's pain. Those were useless now, of course. So Dean stood there, willing his comforting touch to be felt.

"You'll be punished for this," The angel whimpered. Dean imagined that Castiel had meant the words to sound threatening but they came out as an agonized whine, a plea for mercy. The pain in his voice broke Dean's heart and he lowered his lips to Castiel's ear.

"You need to hold on," He said calmly. The panic and awkwardness he had felt a moment ago suddenly left him completely. He was now engulfed with a serene, protective feeling. "Castiel, we won't leave you here. We'll get you out. You need to be strong."

Castiel turned his head and stared right into Dean's eyes. For a moment the hunter thought that Castiel could see him and hear his gentle words. But then Castiel turned away and Dean knew that he remained invisible.

"And who will punish me exactly? You've been abandoned. By your god, by your brothers and sisters, by the humans. No one is coming for you, Castiel. They don't care. They betrayed you, they let you be taken," The demon laughed. "You are alone."

"No," Castiel whispered. The word came out weak and unsure, breaking Dean's heart all over again. He ached for the angel, wanting nothing more than to convey the fact that he had not been forgotten. At least not by the humans for which he had such curiosity and, in a strange way, admiration. Dean touched the angel's face again, cupping his unscathed cheek with his palm.

"What are you doing here?"

Dean jumped at the words, turning around as he felt all his former panic crash back into him like a freight train. He knew the sentence was directed at him, though how he knew he couldn't say.

"You're not supposed to be here," The voice said. Dean searched for its origin but could see no one and thing that could have spoken the words. The voice was female, very angry and, Dean thought, slightly surprised.

"I didn't come here on my own," He said levelly, keeping his voice strong and confident even as his heart pounded away. "Who are you?"

"Well, at least now I get to send you away. He's ours, now. He belongs to us and for the rest of eternity he will stay with us. Don't worry; he'll come to love it here." The surprise had quickly vacated the voice, replaced with amused confidence.

Dean suddenly saw two red eyes staring into his. A new kind of terror flooded him. He was abruptly flooded with all sorts of emotions-hopelessness, loss, fear, anger, sadness…awareness

"You go now," The voice said. Dean could not see its face but knew it was smiling.

A hand pressed itself against his forehead and Dean was catapulted into oblivion.

"Dean! Dean, come on! Open your eyes and look at me."

Dean's eyes shot open and he sat up.

"Dean! Jesus, we thought we'd lost you."

"Bobby?" Dean blinked, looking around. He was in a white room that was filled with sunlight. There was a sterile smell that made Dean want to gag. "Where am I?"

"You're in the hospital, boy," Bobby said, sitting on the edge of what Dean realized was a bed. "You went to sleep one night and just didn't wake up. Sam held out as long as he could but in the end he had to bring you here. The doctors thought you'd had some kind of a stroke. Been feeding you through a tube in your arm, for chrissake. I'm here and you suddenly start screaming your head off."

"What?" Dean asked. He'd just gone to sleep last night…then he'd had the dream…then he'd woken up. "How long have I been out?"

"Over two weeks. What the hell happened?"

"We gotta get out of here," Dean whispered.

"Dean-"

"Bobby! We gotta get out!" Dean interrupted. His voice rose to a yell and he grabbed the Bobby's coat collar, pulling him close. "We need to get back to your place. We need Pam, get her. We need-"

"Dean, we're not going anywhere until you tell me something," Bobby snapped. Dean, however, was already out of bed. He pulled out a few tubes and wires that were connected to his arm, not even feeling the pain as needles were dislodged from his veins. He stood and tried to take a step but winced and stumbled. Looking down at his legs he saw that his knee was badly skinned. The wound was fresh, as though it had just happened.

"I went to hell," Dean whispered, touching his knee. His fingers came away bloody and gritty. Dirt, Dean realized. Dirt from hell.

"What?"

"I saw Castiel. They have him…he's not going to last much longer," Dean replied softly. "Bobby, something big is happening. Bigger than Lilith, bigger than anything."

"Wh-"

"I don't know, goddammit!" Dean yelled, throwing up his hands. "That's why we need to get out of here!"

"OK, OK," Bobby exclaimed, finally relenting. He pointed at Dean with a roll of his eyes. "Would you like a pair of pants or would you prefer to give the good people in ICU a free show?"

Dean flushed a little, realizing the hospital gown he was wearing had no back. He sat down and sighed.

"Yes Bobby. Yes, I would like some pants."

The ride back to Bobby's place had been largely silent. Dean sat in the back seat of the Impala, with Sam driving and Bobby serving as his copilot. No one had trusted him to drive and Dean, on the threat of further delay, had quickly relented and handed Sam his keys, remaining silent until they arrived at Bobby's house.

"You went to hell?" Sam asked incredulously, pulling a chair up to Bobby's cluttered kitchen table.

"Yeah. But it was like I was invisible. Castiel couldn't even see me. Then suddenly…there was someone else in the room. She seemed surprised I was there at first, but then she just laughed and sent me away."

"Lilith?" Bobby inquired, handing Dean a glass of water and taking a seat at the table beside Sam.

"No…someone else," Dean shrugged. "Someone I'd never met before. She seemed…I don't know, she has plans. She told me…"

Dean trailed off, unsure of whether he should be sharing this information.

"Told you what?" Sam asked, leaning forward.

"She told me that we were going to loose…said that Castiel would 'learn to love' hell."

"That's a load of shit," Bobby grimaced. "Even demons hate hell, why do you think they're always trying to leave?"

"I just…I got this weird feeling," Dean sighed. "Like something was wrong."

"It was hell," Sam smirked bitterly. "If you didn't have that feeling I'd be worried."

"At the very least," Dean said, ignoring Sam, "I think Uriel is right. We have to work on the assumption that Castiel has given everything up."

"Dean, he's an angel. He's not just going to betray us like that." Sam's voice took on an incredulous, slightly annoyed, tone. Dean shook his head; the kid just didn't get it. He was so caught up on the idea of angels as immovable objects that he was blind to the reality.

"I wouldn't call it betrayal. But you didn't see him, Sammy," Dean sighed. "It's…it's bad. I don't know what's going on. Lilith wants intel and she's going to get it. And this other thing? It just wants Castiel for its own reasons. I didn't feel like she was connected with Lilith…I don't know, I can't explain it. I was there and not much was said but I had these feelings…we're not safe. If the demons don't know everything they at least know something."

"How does an angel get dragged into the pit, anyway?" Bobby asked. "You boys told me they can be killed but taken to hell to be tortured?"

"He was in his human vessel," Dean shrugged; making air quotes around the word 'vessel'.

"I still don't see how-"

"We need Pam," Dean sighed, rubbing his temples. He was tired of talking about things he knew nothing about. "Maybe she can help me make sense of this."

"I called her while you were changing at the hospital. She's taking a cab, should be here in another hour or so," Bobby offered. "But until then…I guess there's not much we can do."

The three men continued to sit around the table. No one spoke and the uneasy silence weighed on them.

Outside, the horizon seemed to catch on fire as the sun made its way quietly beneath the horizon. Darkness was creeping along the ground, sending the birds into silence and drawing the animals of the nightshift from their slumbers.

The day was ending.

Castiel was groaning, no longer coherent in any way shape or form. Zagen had finished with him for the day, leaving the broken angel tied down and in agony. Castiel was unsure of how much longer he could survive like this. He'd already begun to tell bits and pieces of information to Zagen but had thus far held back the more important intel. Zagen was aware of this and continually stepped up his efforts, a gleeful smile on his face the whole time.

Today, he'd pulled out most of Castiel's teeth and all of his fingernails.

Castiel wanted so badly to sleep, to escape hell even for a brief period. The pain he was in, coupled with the chill his naked body felt and the uncomfortable nature of his binds, prevented any hope of dozing off. Instead, he shut his good eye and tried to will himself dead.

"Well now, that's no good."

Castiel's eye shot open.

"You don't want to die. No one does."

"Who are you?" Castiel asked, or tried to. His mouth was too sore to enunciate anything and the words came out a jumbled mess.

"Ew. The teeth, 'eh? That had to be unpleasant. My name, young Castiel, is Jezabeth."

Castiel's eye watched the demon as she sat on the edge of the table he was bound to. She looked at him, her long blonde hair gleaming in some unseen light. Her eyes were wide and green, filled with a strange mix of optimism, pity, and confidence. There was something else there, too. Something that made Castiel flinch and try to move away.

"Now now," The demon smiled. "If I wanted to hurt you I would have done so already. You see, I'm not a big fan of the whole torture thing. I find it oddly unsatisfying. Give me an honest fight any day."

The girl leaned down pulled a cloth out of her pocket and began wiping off the blood and saliva that coated Castiel's cheeks.

"If it makes you feel better, Zagen will "fix" your mouth when he comes back. You're useless to him if you can't talk," Jezabeth shrugged.

Castiel flinched as she pressed too hard against his face and caused a blinding pain to shoot through his mouth and up his head.

"Sorry," Jezabeth said softly. She took her hands and placed them very gently against either side of the angel's face.

"That better?" She whispered. Castiel moaned but not in pain. As she touched him, the pain began to ebb away slowly until it was completely gone. He sighed and looked at her, not wanting to feel grateful to this demon and yet unable to help himself.

"You know, I can take you out of here," She said, bringing her face close to his. "I have that power. You can fight in this war again, against Lilith, against Lucifer. You can fight alongside the rebellion. Alastair leads us and he is impressed with you, my little angel boy. He thinks you can help him defeat Lilith and stop the rising of Lucifer.

I know what you're thinking. Alastair is just as bad as Lilith. And yeah, he is. Big fan of the torture, that one is. But you know what? He's willing to take you in, to free you from all this. And the best part is; you can take revenge on those who betrayed you. Don't give me that 'angels don't believe in revenge' crap, either. I know you've thought about it. It was all you were thinking about while Zagen was pulling off your fingernails one...by...one.

You see, you really have been abandoned. They think you're unimportant and inept. I mean, Alastair kicked your ass with one blow that day in the barn. You embarrassed your fellow angels with that one. And now they're getting even by leaving you here to suffer. They don't see your potential, not like Alastair does and trust me, he's not one to often acknowledge the strength of others. He is amazed you haven't cracked yet-he told me so. He said he'd underestimated you, that you were stronger than he thought-braver, too. And he wants you on his side.

No more torture. No more fear. No more pain. You can even keep almost all of your little battle secrets. Just think about it. And we'll talk again soon, my little angel boy."

The girl leaned forward and kissed Castiel gently on the forehead. Then, with a small gust of air, she was gone. And the pain was back, stronger than ever. Castiel was left gasping for air, writhing in his bindings.

"I'm back, did you miss me?" The angel whimpered at the sound of the voice; Zagen had returned.

"So before I fix you up so you can talk, what's say I finish off the rest of those teeth? Just as a reminder of why you are going to tell me everything that I want to know." Zagen winked at Castiel and opened what he referred to as his tool kit. He began laying various knives and other instruments out on the table, positioning them so Castiel had a good view.

The angel opened his mouth and let out a shriek, blood and spit flying from between his lips. He prayed for someone to come for him, bitterly aware that no one would.

I'm alone and no one is coming for me, he thought. She was right…they're punishing me…I've been betrayed…so why should I keep quiet anymore?

'Stop it!' rebuked another voice in Castiel's head; his voice of reason. 'Lies, don't believe a demon. She was lying! Be strong. If you're going to die then die with honor.'

Castiel had been listening to this voice since the start of his ordeal. He would listen to it now, keeping his mouth shut about the information he had. But he was aware that his rational voice was growing weaker, as though it were coming from very far away. He wondered how long it would be before he couldn't hear it at all.


	4. Chapter 4

*disclaimers, the cool thing to do: I own nothing. So yeah…I guess that's it. Also, this is a work of fiction, something I'm doing to unwind. I have no beta or anything like that. There shouldn't be any terribly egregious grammatical errors or anything, but if there are, just let it slide. I'm just in it to have fun. 

SUMMERY: Castiel is lost, in more ways than one. His faith, loyalties, and strength are challenged as he endures the war of hell and the hell of war. Meanwhile, a moment of weakness on his part may put Dean, Sam, and all of humanity at risk. And ultimately everyone on this journey must ask themselves who wrote the story of this world and war?

* buyer beware, there's a sex scene in this bad boy. Nothing too explicit but it's there, so head's up.

PS-thanks for all the reviews! I appreciate hearing from the people who are enjoying my little (slightly morbid) story. Y'all rock and I will try not to disappoint. 

Apocryphal

**Chapter Four**

When the doorbell rang all three hunters jumped as they were torn from their pensive thoughts. No one rose for several seconds; they were all wondering if Pam could help and if they even wanted to know whatever she could tell them. Finally Dean stood and walked to the door. He took a deep breath and opened it.

"Pam," He greeted her somberly as he motioned her in.

"Dean," She returned with a wan smile. She looked tired, Dean thought. Her lips were drawn into a tight line and her hair stood up in odd places. Though he couldn't see her eyes he was sure she had dark circles under them.

Pam walked briskly into the kitchen and took a seat. Dean hovered by the door, watching her with a sort of awe. The way she walked, talked, and moved belied her disability. The hunter wondered if he would be as strong in her place.

"Are you coming, Dean?" Pam called. "I just rode for four hours in a cab that smelled like old cheese. I'd like to get a move on."

Dean sighed and walked into the kitchen; this was not going to be easy.

"So…Bobby filled me in on what happened over the phone. You went to hell?"

"Yeah," Dean answered, looking around for another chair. The best he could come up with was a stool that sat beside a closet door. He pulled it up to the table and took a seat.

"And you saw the angel?"

"Castiel, yeah. I saw him. He was in bad shape." Dean studied the woman, unnerved by the smirk that crossed her face.

"Karma's a bitch," She said with a shrug. "So why, exactly, do you need me? I can't pull someone out of hell and even if I could I wouldn't pull Castiel out."

"That's harsh," Sam muttered.

"I have no eyes," Pam snapped. "Did you ever think that maybe he deserves to be in hell? How many other people do you think he's hurt?"

There was a long pause. The three men exchanged uncomfortable glances and shifted around in their seats.

"What's goin' on with you Pam?" Bobby asked. "You're not yourself."

"It's been a long couple of weeks," Pam sighed. She took off her sunglasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose. Her milky eyes gaped at the hunters.

"Something's going on," Dean said. "And it centers around Castiel. Pam, we need intel. Anything you got, anything you might have heard…"

"I haven't heard anything…so you were in hell?" Pam replaced her sunglasses on her face and sightlessly studied Dean.

"Yeah," Dean said, growing annoyed. "We covered this, Pam."

"I know. But if you were there then someone brought you there. I can try to find out who."

"That uh…that didn't work out so well last time," Sam pointed out.

"I know, I was there," Pam said humorlessly. "I won't let that happen again. Any sign of danger and I'll turn around."

"Sounds good," Dean shrugged. "Let's do it."

Together, they set up the table to prepare for the séance. It was something Dean would never get used to. There was in inherent element of B-horror movie in it; a candle here, a symbol there, then join hands in a circle and shut your eyes.

Pam began to chant in Latin. For several moments nothing happened. Then the air went dead cold. Dean's eyes shot open and he looked around the kitchen with wonder. Pam's voice suddenly seemed very far away and the room appeared to be growing. Dean, assuming he was simply tired, shut his eyes in the hope that when he opened them his vision would have cleared.

"Hello Dean."

Dean jumped, his eyes opening once again. He was no longer in Bobby's kitchen. In fact…he was nowhere.

"Where am I?" Dean snapped, looking around fearfully.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to frighten you."

Suddenly a form materialized in front of him. It was a young woman, short and small boned, with long red hair and green eyes that seemed to shimmer with an unseen light. She smiled at Dean, her expression warm and calm.

"Who…who are you?" Dean asked. "And where am I?"

"You are," The girl shrugged. "Isn't that enough?"

"Buddha?"

"I'm sorry?" The girl squinted at him, confused.

"Never mind…you were the one who brought me to hell."

"No. I showed you hell. There's a rather large difference," The girl laughed. She walked in a circle around Dean, though there appeared to be no ground under her feet. Instead there was darkness. Not a claustrophobic or repressive darkness…in fact it was an oddly bright and cheerful darkness.

"Look darling, you're not making a whole lot of sense here and if it's all the same to you I'm real tired of being dicked around." Dean followed her with his eyes, carefully studying every movement she made. She didn't walk, he realized, but instead glided across whatever surface she was walking upon. Her hair blew in some unseen breeze and her presence was steady and peaceful. She was not one to fear, Dean realized, and would not attack without severe provocation. Despite himself he relaxed slightly.

"I understand. I'm sure my young friend does that quite often," She said, coming to a stop a few feet from Dean.

"Castiel? You know Castiel?" Dean cocked his head and stared into her eyes searching for information. She met his gaze evenly and with what Dean thought might be an element of respect.

"You'll have to forgive him, of course. He's young. Young and oblivious to the humans he has been charged with protecting. He tends to assume people know more than they do. It can be frustrating. He means no harm, though.

As it were, he's why I'm here. He's been betrayed, Dean. You all have. There is unrest in heaven and in hell. Things are changing, shifting…loyalties held for thousands of years are crumbling."

"So what? You can bring me to the middle of nothing and nowhere but you can't hoist one little angel out of hell?"

"It is not my fight. There are things beyond heaven and hell, Dean. My people have no place in the war of angels and demons. There are rules here. I cannot interfere without the risk of plunging my world into this war. I'm bending the rules just by being here."

"So why bother?" Dean asked. He took a faltering step, realized that he was somehow on solid ground, and then began pacing around the girl.

"Castiel is a…friend of mine, I suppose you could say." The girl stared off into the distance with a small smile on her face.

"Like…a grab a movie friend or a grab a hotel friend?" Dean blurted out, halting in his tracks.

"I don't understand the analogy but I'll assume one of those choices involves Castiel and myself having sex," The girl smirked. "No, no we weren't like that. Couldn't be, as it were. Angels are rather lacking in that finer point of existence. But we were close. Confidants might be the right word. There was a time when our two worlds challenged each other. We solved the problem with diplomacy, luckily for all involved. Castiel was one of the angels sent in to hammer out the details in our treaty. I spent much time with him…most of it being annoyed."

"I can relate."

"I'm sure you can. But there were times when I greatly admired him, too. He was different from the others. It was like he was always feeling and emphasizing without knowing how he was doing it or what it meant. I knew that in time he would grow to understand that part of himself and use it to become one of the best soldiers heaven had ever seen."

"I hate to tell you, sweetie, but he's not exactly flying down that learning curve."

"He's still young," The girl offered, extending her hands with a wry smile. "I believe if given the chance he will grow to be your best ally in this war. You have a way with him, believe it or not. You're the first creature in a long time who has connected with him enough to confuse him."

"And that's helpful?"

"Without confusion we don't question and without questions we don't learn."

"Ah, I see. You sure you're not Buddha?"

"Castiel doesn't deserve to go out like this," The girl continued, ignoring Dean. She stared at him pensively. "You have to fix this, Dean. You need him."

"You said he was betrayed…"

"I cannot say more."

"Ah, the treaty."

"It's kept peace for many years. Don't mock what works."

"So you're telling me what? You're more powerful than God?"

"I wouldn't say powerful. Just from a different world."

Dean stared at the girl incredulously. She gave him another smile and shrugged.

"You didn't always know there was a hell. You didn't always know there was a heaven. Now you do. But does that mean you know everything?"

"You have to be known to someone," Dean replied. "And let me tell you, hon, I've talked to a lot of people. None have ever dropped your name."

"You don't know my name," The girl pointed out. "Not that knowing it would make a difference. My people are known to others in the universe but to humans we are irrelevant. As it were you're the first human I've ever spoken to. I'd like to think you owe your race an apology." She winked at him good-naturedly.

"Cute," Dean smirked. "Nice to finally meet an omnipotent being with a sense of humor."

"Reading the dictionary lately?"

"Nah, just been watching a lot of Jeopardy."

"I'll pretend like I get that reference. So, will you listen to what I say?"

"If you answer just one question."

"Give me your best shot."

"How does an angel get dragged into hell? I'm not asking the circumstances that it happened under…but how? I've seen what their true forms can do to demons."

"Castiel has been bound to his human host. He is physically in hell and unable to revert into his true form. He is now subject to all the limitations of a human body…no offense."

"None taken," Dean replied. "How does that sort of thing happen, exactly?"

"It's an ancient ceremony, long and complicated. It was used on angels who wanted to become human but not go through the rebirth process. If their host was willing, that is ready to leave this world, and an angel wanted to become human this ceremony was used to usher the human spirit into the afterworld and allow the angel a body to traverse the earth with."

"Like a walk in?"

"Sort of, yes. Such a thing was considered odd but not frowned upon as long as the circumstances were kosher. It's never been done on an unwilling angel before. I cannot say if it can be reversed…now, will you hear me out?"

"I will."

"Good. Castiel is in hell, as you know. He's begun to give up information although none of it has been vital intel as of yet. Still, he's close to revealing everything. If it's not stopped, he will tell all he knows. I wish I could say that is the worst of your concerns but it is not. He's fallen into the sights of a rebel group and i-"

The girl began to fade in and out of focus. Dean blinked, trying to focus his eyes. A loud rumbling noise filled the room and both Dean and the girl covered their ears.

"What's happening?" He yelled.

"I don't know!" The girl called back. "Something is wrong! This shouldn't be happening. Dean, you have to save Castiel."

"How?"

"He'll be coming to you. And you have to save him even though he might seem different. He is not beyond redemption."

Dean started to ask another question but the world he was in began to crumble, vanishing bit by bit. The girl continued to fade out of focus, slowly disappearing into the dark light.

"Your name!" Dean yelled. "What is it?"

"Nasarayle!" Came a far away reply. Then she was gone.

Dean grunted and opened his eyes slowly. His head was pounding and he raised a hand to his temple.

"What the..." As his vision cleared he saw Bobby and Sam hovering over him with concerned faces.

"Jesus Christ boy," Bobby yelled. "We thought we'd lost you again."

"OK…Bobby? Indoor voices," Dean muttered. He sat up still holding his head.

"You alright, Dean?" Sam asked, placing a hand on Dean's shoulder. Dean brushed him off and stood, his legs feeling shaky underneath him.

"What happened?" He asked, taking a seat at the table. Pam, he noted, was still in her chair and staring placidly into the darkness in front of her.

"You just started rambling. Then you fell down and had like, a seizure or something. Pam started chanting…she brought you back," Bobby explained. He shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant but Dean could see through the guise; the man was worried. What's more, he was confused.

"It was weird," Dean whispered, the past few minutes events slowly returning. "I was in this place…if you can call it that. It was just dark-"

"You were back in hell?" Sam interrupted.

"No. It was dark but it was a light darkness. There was this girl there…" Dean went on to explain everything to the confused men. They stared at him blankly, appearing unsure as to how trustworthy his memory was.

"Her name," Pam bluntly stated. "What was her name?"

"Uh…Nasarayle. She didn't tell me what she was. Just that she was beyond heaven and hell. Not in a more powerful way but…different. Unknown to humans."

"I've never heard of her," Pam said quietly. Though Dean wasn't sure, he could have sworn he'd seen her lips tighten and for a split second she had appeared angry. However, the expression came and went so fast that he told himself he had imagined it.

"So something big is going down and for some reason you're keyed into it," Bobby sighed. He rubbed his face with his hands then looked at Dean with a wry grin.

"Shit, boy," He laughed. "What the hell are we gonna do now?"

No one had an answer. In truth, none of them really wanted to know.

Castiel was confused. One moment he had been with Zagen, tied to the table and in so much agony that he hadn't been able to think straight. The demon had healed him earlier in the day only to begin all over again. He'd attacked Castiel with vigor, taking his teeth, both his eyes, breaking every bone in the angel's foreign body, and mocking him the entire way.

Then suddenly, everything had changed. Castiel was sitting on the edge of a bed in a warmly lit room that was oddly cozy. It lacked the reek of hell and Castiel was aware on some level that he had been brought back to earth. Though he was still nude his injuries were gone. He inhaled deeply, relishing the absence of pain while being slightly perturbed that not hurting now felt somewhat alien.

"Hello again, Cassie."

Castiel jerked his head towards the door. It was Jezabeth. He blushed and covered himself with a blanket, a little unsure as to why he did so.

"Aw, you're cute, my little self-conscious angel," Jezabeth laughed. She sat down next to him. "I'm guessing that's not an emotion you're familiar with. You see, humans have this thing about being seen naked. Personally, I find it strange but whatever. It's their world, after all."

"What do you want?" Castiel whispered. His voice was hoarse and he tried to clear his throat.

"Hold on," Jezabeth said. She rose and walked into a connecting bathroom. Castiel heard water running for a moment then Jezabeth returned with a tall glass of water. She handed it to him and motioned for him to drink. Castiel raised the glass to his lips, hesitated, then gulped down the water, closing his eyes as the liquid soothed his raw throat.

"Better?" Jezabeth asked kindly. Castiel nodded.

"Where am I?"

"A nice little cabin in Alaska," Jezabeth smiled. "Homey, isn't it? I picked it especially for you. I thought you'd enjoy a little ambiance. Are you comfortable?"

"I am," Castiel sighed. He reached a hand back and rubbed his neck, suddenly feeling a little stiff.

"Here, allow me. I want you to enjoy your little respite." Jezabeth maneuvered herself behind him and pulled down the blanket he'd draped around himself. Castiel felt her hands begin to rub his shoulders, gently kneading his sore muscles. He groaned, leaning into her touch and delighting in the comfort it brought. Angels were not a physically close bunch and, after all the brutality inflicted upon him, Castiel was happy to have some kind, gentle contact.

"Is that good?" Jezabeth whispered in his ear. Castiel nodded. Demon or no, she was offering him the only benevolence he'd had in what felt like decades and he was happy to accept it.

The angel nevertheless jumped a little when her hands moved forward onto his chest and continued their massage.

"I'm glad you're here," She whispered. "I didn't like seeing you in pain. You're too good for that kind of abuse. I want you to stay with me, Castiel."

"I can't fight with Alastair," Castiel whimpered. Her fingers were moving down to his stomach, creating sensations in him that he didn't understand.

"Why? Is he really so bad? Is he worse than those who betrayed you? Worse than those who tortured you? Dare I say, angel boy, he might be the only honest one in this fight. You know what you're getting with him. He'll reward you for your help, protect you from your enemies, and I'll be right by your side." Her fingers dropped lower and Castiel's eyes shot open.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"You're bound to your human host," Jezabeth whispered into his ear. Her teeth closed around his earlobe and gave a light tug. "That means you can experience things you've never felt before. That's why you could feel so much pain but it's also why you can feel so much pleasure."

The demon girl kissed her way down to his neck, continuing her light nips on his sensitive skin. Castiel let out a moan and tried to shift away from her. This was wrong, he thought. He shouldn't be doing this.

Jezabeth maneuvered herself in front of him, sitting on his lap and staring deeply into her eyes. There was kindness there, Castiel thought. Kindness and affection. How long had it been since anyone had looked at him like that?

"We can make you feel things like you have never felt before. Glory, pride, happiness, revenge," She continued, placing her forehead on his. Her hands stroked his sides, the gentle fingers tickling his flesh. "You won't believe the freedom. It's amazing to just let go and give into everything you have ever wanted to feel and to do. It's enthralling. Not even a human feels these things at the level we do. And you can be one of us. All you have to do is say the words."

Castiel let out another moan and shut his eyes. He was feeling overwhelmed and, he had to admit, he was enjoying it. Jezabeth began kissing his chest, her lips cascading down to his stomach.

"Ohhh," He groaned, arching his back.

"Freedom, Castiel. I'm offering it to you. No more guilt, no more pain. You'll answer to a real leader, someone you can see and talk to. And here we all stand together. We won't judge you for anything; it's natural to want to feel good. And I promise that we can make you feel good."

"Stop," Castiel whispered.

"You don't really mean that," Jezabeth said with a coy laugh. Her lips returned to his neck, kissing and sucking.

It was true, Castiel thought. He didn't want it to stop. He wanted her to continue forever and he hated himself for it.

As though reading his thoughts, she raised her skirt and moved forward, pushing his now erect self into her.

"Aughhh," Castiel grunted, closing his eyes. He'd never felt so good.

"My final offer, Castiel. I'll have to hurl you back into hell if you say no. Zagen will be waiting for you and trust me, you haven't seen the half of what he can do. The suffering he will bring down on you is unbelievable. And he'll keep you forever and ever. You'll be his pet. Oh, the things he'll do to you…I wish I could put them into words. You can be Zagen's bitch until the end of time. Or you can stay here with me. I'll keep you safe, I promise. I'll give you everything.

So my little angel boy, one more time…do you want me to stop?" Jezabeth's voice had dropped to a husky whisper. She rocked to and fro very slowly, looking at the young angel who was staring back at her with wide eyes. She couldn't help but relish the conflict in his eyes; the fear at these new sensations…the desire for them to never stop. He looked so wonderfully virginal…momentarily innocent to the truths of the universe.

"Nooo," Castiel whimpered.

"No what?" Jezabeth asked, quickening her pace. Castiel's breathing quickened and sweat broke out on his forehead. His hands clenched into fists as Jezabeth brought her lips back to his neck. He had a sudden image of the agony he had experienced at the hands of Zagen. He couldn't go back there, couldn't endure that kind of suffering any more.

"…Don't stop," He finally moaned. His voice broke into a tearful plea. "Please don't stop."

"I won't, baby," Jezabeth smiled. She pressed her lips against his, hurdling Castiel into the most intense physical gratification he had ever felt. In the throws of pleasure he passionately returned Jezabeth's kiss.

It was done.


End file.
